Danger! Drunk Officers!
by Leader of the Penguins
Summary: They really shouldn't have been left alone with all that champagne. Let's just hope the hangover the next day was worth it.


**Danger! Drunk Officers!**

"Here's to Titanic!"

Sixth Officer James Moody held up a glass of very expensive champagne, which unfortunately, has the highest alcohol content of any champagne known to man. Around him, the other officers raised their glasses. It was the first night of the Titanic's maiden voyage, and the officers were going to party like it was the end of the world.

"Excellent champagne James! Where did you get it?" Chief Officer Wilde asked as Captain Smith walked into the Officers Mess Hall, where the party was taking place.

"Mr Caledon Hockley in first class," said Moody, taking another sip from his champagne glass. "Of course, if it belonged to Cal Hockley, then it must be excellent champagne!"

"Don't drink _too_ much, mind."

A few of the officers laughed at Smith's warning. Perhaps they were a little tipsy, but who really cared? It was their night, and they were going to enjoy it. What's the worst that could happen?

Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall fell out of his chair. He must have had too much too drink. And Wilde. He was practically wetting his pants when Boxhall fell out of his chair. But then again, all of the officers laughed. Apart from 5th Officer Harold Lowe, he sported a grim look on his face. What was wrong with him?

"Lighten up Harry! Ha ha ha!" Moody laughed, tears of laughter coming to his eyes. He sipped the rest of the champagne and refilled it again (there were 10 bottles. Cal must've been REALLY generous).

"Sorry Jimmy," Lowe said, taking a huge gulp from his glass.

"Drunken pigs," Smith muttered as he walked out of the room, taking a bottle of champagne for himself. Well, he wasn't going to let the officers hog all the fun was he?

"Oi! He stole ma champagne," shouted First Officer William Murdoch, sounding more like a typical teenager you would find in the streets of Glasgow than the first officer of the grandest ship in the world. "Tha's ma champagne, ya bampot! Ya loooooon!" he called after the captain, much to everyone else's drunken amusement.

Slowly but surely, with every little sip (or big gulp) the officers gradually grew more drunk. It had reached to a point where they fought over the champagne, Murdoch, Boxhall and Lowe the most competitive.

"Geez ma champagne back!" (Murdoch)

"My champagne, you dogs!" (Boxhall)

"It's MY champagne so FUCK OFF!" (Lowe)

Just then, Second Officer Charles Lightoller ran out of the room. For no reason. None. Murdoch, carrying a full bottle of champagne in one hand, and a stick in the other, followed Lightoller out of the room. No guesses where that stick was headed.

"OW!" screamed Lightoller. He came running back, rather drunkenly, into the room, _the stick was actually rammed up his backside_! He jumped about screaming, "Get it out!", while the other officers had the rather difficult (and nasty) job of removing the stick from Lightoller's backside.

Murdoch entered once the stick had been successfully removed, laughing like a really, really mad scientist who had got a tremendous buzz. He had a menacing gleam in his eye, and a now empty bottle of champagne in his hand.

"I'm telling mummy on you!" Lightoller shouted at Murdoch, which resulted in tremendous fits of laughter. Lightoller grabbed the empty champagne bottle from Murdoch's hand, and hit him REALLY hard in the crotch.

"ARGH!"

Lowe grabbed another empty bottle and copied Lightoller. Ouch! And so did Boxhall. And Wilde. And Moody. (Third Officer Herbert Pitman was at the bridge. Someone had to be sober.)

It was a game now. Seeing who could hit Murdoch's crotch the hardest was about as fun for Murdoch as being killed in the most painful way imaginable over and over again. Lightoller grabbed another bottle and hit him on the head this time. Murdoch was knocked out cold. Oh dear. What a shame. Or is it?

"Oi! Jamesy-boy ..." began Boxhall, "howsabout we gets Willie some lady-clothes like and make him wear'em?"

Moody began to laugh. "Right then. Let's go, amigo!" He and Boxhall went off to get woman's clothes.

That left Wilde, Lowe and Lightoller with an unconscious Murdoch, who had no idea what's about to happen. Wilde was whispering gibberish to Lowe, while Lightoller was twirling on the spot, watching his coat swirl round. He looked similar to a dog trying to catch it's tail.

"Oh shit!" Lightoller came crashing to the ground on his backside to a loud cheer from Wilde.

Lowe on the other hand, grabbed Lightoller's hat which had fallen to the ground with him, walked away rather unsteadily, and threw it in one of the toilets. "Go fetch doggie!"

Lightoller did so. Lowe found it hysterical, whereas Wilde had passed out one of the tables.

In the first class corridor, Moody and Boxhall stumbled across Molly Brown. Perfect. Molly was always up for a laugh, no matter what the cost.

"Excuse me mish," began Boxhall, who was dancing around like a really crap ballet dancer. "Can I get a dresh? Or a corshet?"

Molly looked at him like he was an idiot. "The hell d'you want a corset for?"

"For Willie! We going to, dress him up like A GIRL!" Moody began rolling about the floor in a delirious fit of laughter that sounded like _moo-hoo-ha-ha_.

Molly watched Moody roll about, and thought for a moment. She thought it would be funny, so she agreed. "Wait a minute, I'll get one from a friend."

Molly walked off to Ruth DeWitt Bukater's room. Moody got to his feet at last, and thought it would be funny to dance with Boxhall just as Mr Andrews walked along the corridor. The look on Mr Andrews face said it all. He was shocked that two officers were dancing around the corridor like a crap ballet act. In fact, when Molly appeared with one of Ruth's corsets, the situation appeared to worsen. At least the two officers weren't attacking each other ...

In the officers quarters Lowe was aggressively attacking Lightoller with an empty champagne bottle, and Lightoller also used an empty bottle to defend himself. They kept hitting each other, and jumping over Murdoch, who was still knocked out and lying in the middle of the room.

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" shouted Lowe everytime he hit Lightoller, to which Lightoller replied with "I'll shove this bottle up your skinny arse!"

"Ooh! I'm scared, still it can't be as bad as a stick now, can it?" Lowe said in his most sarcastic voice, aiming the bottle for Lightoller's backside which was still sore from having the stick rammed up it. Lightoller did the same, and kept jumping away, and ended up landing on Murdoch. Let's just say the way Lightoller was sprawled across Murdoch didn't look right. And while this was going on, Wilde was snoring loudly on the table, his right hand clutching a half-full champagne bottle.

"We've got it!" Moody skipped into the room carrying the corset, looked at the way Lightoller was lying on Murdoch and shouted at the top of his lungs "CHARLIE'S TRYING TO SHAG WILLIE!"

Boxhall came running in at full speed, tripped over Moody's foot and hit the floor with a loud thud. He laughed as he got up, although his laughing was rather uncontrollable. And sinister.

Apparently, once Mr Andrews and Molly heard the whole story (eventually), they thought it would be hilarious so they let Moody and Boxhall take the corset. Poor Ruth didn't know what was going to happen to her corset.

"Strip him!" a dancing Lightoller sang. "Then we'll put the corset on!"

He watched with delight as the officers undressed Murdoch until he was completely naked, and tried to fit him into the corset. The hard part was yet to come.

"I'm takin' his clothes!" Lowe ran out with Murdoch's clothes and dumped them in the same toilet as Lightoller's hat was previously thrown in. Fifth Officer Lowe is a creature of habit, so God knows what else'll be thrown into that toilet. At least he didn't try to flush it.

Moody, Boxhall, Lowe and Lightoller were struggling with lacing up the corset (they were really drunk, after all). They did get it laced up tightly after an hour or so. It was now three o'clock in the morning, and they were getting tired. Just one last prank before they go to bed.

They carried Murdoch out onto the deck, who was completely unaware that he was wearing nothing but Ruth DeWitt Bukater's white corset, and left him lying at the foot of the crow's nest where Frederick Fleet and Reginald Lee were off-duty and had climbed down the ladder.

"OH MY GOD!" squealed Lee with delight. He clapped his hands merrily as Fleet was doubled up with laughter. It was an incredible sight. Lots of people would've paid a lot of money to see this (probably).

Murdoch awoke the next day, a crowd of people watching him, including Mr Andrews. Needless to say, when he saw the corset, he let out an angry yell like a savage and ran through the laughing crowd to the Officers Quarters. He hit all of the officers over the head several times with the empty champagne bottles that were left over from the drunken party. Murdoch was not going to let them get away with this.

For the rest of the voyage (the ship doesn't hit any icebergs, and docks at New York), he played evil pranks on the officers all the time and embarrassed them at every possible moment. However, none of these incidents were as embarrassing as waking up on the deck of _Titanic_ wearing a corset that belong to a middle aged woman in first class.

_How Murdoch will ever recover from the trauma ... we'll never know_

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**I own none of the characters, and I seriously doubt any of them would actually have behaved this way in real life.**

**Don't try any of this at home! You have been warned! I'm not claiming responsibility for injured crotches, or sore backsides because people have rammed stuff up them.**


End file.
